


Actions Speak Louder

by BloodCalling13



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-30 18:03:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8543521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodCalling13/pseuds/BloodCalling13
Summary: Actions speak louder than words, a lesson Rose has learned before, and must learn again. She can't stay with the Doctor when words say the opposite of his actions, not when he has broken his promise first. But Rose Tyler has yet to see what her future holds, and it will draw her back to the Doctor once more. Post The Girl in the Fireplace. Rating for later chapters.





	1. Chapter 1

Rose just stared at the Doctor as he looked into her eyes, his light brown eyes listless as they betrayed his age. “I’m fine. I’m always fine,” he said to her, his usual level of enthusiasm missing from his words. She wouldn’t have believed him even if he had been bouncing around the control panel as he usually did, his exuberance emanating from every movement of his restless body. She was used to the fidgety nature of this new body, and to see him without it just drove home how not alright he was. That wounded Rose more than she could ever hope to put into words.

The entire dynamics of ‘The Doctor and Rose’ were based upon the ability to understand what wasn’t put into words between the two of them; it was how it had worked since the moment he had grabbed her hand and said ‘Run’. Up until recently, Rose had been sure the Doctor felt _something_ for her beyond the simple complex of ‘friends’, even if it had never been put into any sort of words. Actions spoke so much louder than words, a hard lesson Rose had learned before, and was learning once again.

To her credit, Rose just nodded and averted her eyes before walking quietly away. She wouldn’t let him see her heart breaking in her eyes, wouldn’t show him just how badly she had been shaken and wounded by him in such a short time. Normally, he would seek out consolation after a particularly nasty adventure, and Rose would be in the library, waiting for him with a copy of fifth Harry Potter to read together. This time though, she knew he would seek comfort from the TARDIS, and wouldn’t stop by the library, not that he would find her there this time.

No, she wouldn’t let him see her like this.

Her steps were slow as she focused on the task of walking the corridor to her bedroom, counting the length of her breath to stave off the worst of her tears. Already tears were distorting her vision and her cheeks were heating, but she wouldn’t allow her tears to fall, not until she was secure in her bedroom.

Once the heavy dark wooden door shut quietly and the silver lock clicked into place, her shaky control collapsed, and she flung herself onto the bed, not even trying to control the waterworks. Her heart hurt so bad in her chest, the shards digging deep into her chest and sending out pain across her body. There was no stopping the tears, so she just let herself cry out the pain and hurt holding onto her soul.

Honestly, how had she ended up in this mess all over again? Crying her heart out over another boy that she had truly believed had loved her. How much poorly placed faith could she put into a person who would just turn around and break it?

Was this one her own doing? Did she project her own desires onto the Doctor?

Memories danced before her mind, the look of adoration he would occasionally wear when he didn’t think she was looking, the look of fear as he saw her in the heart of the Dalek’s fleet, the look of cold determination that he would save her, the look of disgust when he realized Cassandra had control of her. She remembered the nights spent in the library where they would read and laugh at the terrible films she would always pick out for them to watch. How his hand would reach for her hand just as often as her own would seek out his.

No, she realized, her tears starting to ebb. She hadn’t projected onto the Doctor, the signs were all there.

 _All of the signs for **human** affection,_ her mind reminded her of that little fact.

And that was the thorn of the entire thing: the Doctor wasn’t human. He was a Gallifreyan Time Lord, an entire species that looked human in appearance only. He knew the social customs of Earth, of how humans interacted with one another, had demonstrated his knowledge often enough, even if he ignored it in favor of being rude.

Rose dried her eyes on her bedsheet before she got up to go to the loo for a tissue for her nose and to wipe away her ruined makeup. _He certainly was male enough to act like a human male_ , she thought bitterly as she blew her nose repeatedly. Madame De Pompadour was just the latest in a line of pretty faces that had turned his head. How long had he spent in Paris while she and Mickey had been in danger? He mourned her loss so keenly, too keenly to just be a passing thing.

Would he have mourned her if he had been too late, or would he have used it as an opportunity?

Nausea swept over Rose and she had to grab ahold of the counter to keep herself steady over the sink. Rose couldn’t believe that he wouldn’t use that as some sort of sympathy card with a woman. She couldn’t be sure of anything anymore, not when it came to the Doctor.

Staring down at the sink, the truth sunk in, and she dumped the meager contents of her stomach into the sink.

Rose felt sick, her heart hurting worse than it ever had in the past, her stomach sore from retching, and her limbs weak with the realization that her world was built on old truths. Once upon a time in their relationship he would have sacrificed the world for her, now he would sacrifice her on a whim to spend time with another woman. Her faith had been solid in him, now it was nowhere to be found.

At least he had known Sarah Jane for a good length of time. He had only known the Madame for short spurts starting when she was just a child.

Sarah Jane.

Rose’s anger flared hotly, cutting through darkness of Rose until all that was left was the outrage and humiliation. And that’s what he had done to her wasn’t it? He had abandoned her to be parts on that fucking ship, except he had conveniently returned at just the moment before her dismemberment. Swanning off again while she was left grappling with her human emotions and being blamed for feeling as she did. She didn’t blame Madame De Pompadour for any of it, her blame lay squarely on the Doctor’s flightiness and susceptibility to a beautiful woman.

He was going to leave her behind and not even bother with a second glance, or even seeing if he had even left her in the right damn city.

No, Rose would not make the same mistake again. One abusive relationship was enough for a lifetime; she would not be seeing this one out to the end too. Promise or no, Rose Tyler would not be another willing victim to someone who made her feel like she wasn’t worth her true value. Let him find someone else to use and discard, she was done with his greed.

Anger fueled her movements as she yanked open her personal wardrobe door and grabbed out the dusty rose colored pack she had snagged from the wardrobe room weeks ago. It held inter-dimensional pockets, which had been the reason for snatching it up; she could have her own bag to carry her own things rather than be restricted to a handbag and her jean pockets. The Doctor could hunt her down if he really wanted it back (if he even noticed), but for now, she would make use of it.

Rose only packed things that were hers, choosing to leave behind the clothing that rightfully belonged in the wardrobe room, even if they were some of her favorite. She packed away the knickknacks that decorated her room and her pillow, though she left her favorite blanket behind as well as the casing for her pillow. Only the bare essentials of makeup went into her bag, the more audacious things she had bought in hopes of attracting the Doctor’s attention were left on the counter, including a shade changing lipstick.

The last thing to go into the bag was where Rose’s anger faltered. She stared at the wall to the side of her bed, where she had built her own collage of mementos from their adventures. Mostly it was pictures that had been taken, but there were a few dried flowers she had pressed between two heavy tomes, a couple of tickets to different cultural exhibits they had only saw parts of, and scraps of paper with notes written on them about a variety of things. Grabbing a small box, Rose carefully pulled down the dry flowers and notes, then stared at the photos.

The pictures were taken all across her time with the Doctor, many having an alien landscape but a few had the familiar backdrop of Earth. Mickey and Jackie helped to occupy most of the Earth pictures, while her, the Doctor, and/or Jack occupied the rest of them. Not every adventure was up there, as she didn’t think to start taking pictures until just before meeting Jack, and pictures of prison cells would ruin what she had been trying to create. The pictures spiraled outward from a focal point, her favorite picture out of all of them.

It was one of the first ones taken, before the Gaming Station and the Doctor’s regeneration. Rose was part of the photo, leaning over a railing for a cliff side overlooking the dapper purple evening sky of an alien world, her back to the camera but her face looking up at the Doctor leaning beside her. His trusty leather jacket had been set aside in favor of just his deep blue jumper, his arms crossed across his chest, looking almost naked while still being completely covered. Had he been scowling at her or looking exasperated, it would have looked like some of the others that dotted the wall. But Jack, bless him, he had been quick with the camera, and had captured her favorite moment on film for all time.

Encompassed in that photo was the Doctor relaxed, closer to Rose than best mates should be while not wearing his armor. It showed the way Rose used to look at the Doctor with the awe and love she felt for him, like he had hung the stars for her, while he smiled down at her with one of his rare smiles that lit up his whole face and chased away the shadows that were so often found there. That slice of time was a window, a view of the forever she had promised and the possibility of a future together.

At the time, it wasn’t a lie. He had needed her as much as she needed him. They were close in the few others of him with his blue eyes, but they only hinted at the intimacy that her favorite one displayed openly.

Rose’s eyes fell to those of the newer face the Doctor wore. Rose was held closer in all of these, his arm slung around her shoulders or him standing closer as a couple might look in a photo, but they lacked something, which she could only see now. The Doctor’s usual exuberance was there, but his smile was just a touch too bright, like he was trying so hard to hide the fact that he wanted the snap to be over so he could be away. All of them looked that way, she realized sadly. He looked like he couldn’t wait to escape. Even in the gruffer ones, he never looked like that. There was always a secret joy to him when she took his picture, even if it could only be found in the glint of his eyes and the slight curve of the corner of his mouth.

How had she been so blind?

Growling at her own stupid ape-ishness, she snatched down all of those of her blue-eyed Doctor, those of just her and Jack, any that didn’t have the pinstriped Doctor in them. She took down the two tickets that were also tied to his prior self, and left the rest tacked to the wall where they were. They were just painful reminders, and the open wound on her heart was reminder enough. He would do with them as he pleased, though she wouldn’t be surprised if they ended up in the waste bin. The box went into the bag and she did up the zip, only slightly disoriented when the bag hardly weighed anything on her shoulders, despite holding the entirety of her life in it.

On a whim, just before she walked out of the room forever, Rose turned back to the bathroom. She picked up the tube of wasted lipstick and placed it to the mirror.

_Actions speak louder than words. Treat her better._

Rose didn’t look at herself as she wrote the simplest message, not wanting to see the mess that crying had made of her face or the brokenness of herself in her eyes. She just set the tube back down on the counter and walked out of her room, feeling the weariness of her choice starting to creep up on her as she shut the door with her name in circular writing for the last time.

Rose didn’t have a plan on how to get the Doctor to drop her off back in her own timeline. There probably be some kind of confrontation, some pleas for her to stay (maybe), or just a yelling match of words that would cut her much worse than she already was now. Her anger still kept her moving, but it was a low simmer and her weariness of being foolish was at the top. She just wanted to go, no goodbyes, no fights, just a silent retreat.

Which, as it turned out, she would get with only one problem: the Doctor was elsewhere in the massive ship and the hum of the engines meant they were in the Vortex. Tears prickled her eyes as her temper heated. Why couldn’t she just have this one thing? Rose stomped over to the console, just to circle the mushroom shape in case he was hiding under it, which to her dismay, he wasn’t.  

Exasperated, Rose pressed her palms on the console, trying to think of a next step. She could go searching for the Doctor, but the TARDIS was just too big and Rose wasn’t that familiar with the bowls of the magnificent ship. There was the chance she could just wait here long enough; he was bound to return eventually, but then she wouldn’t be able to get away without the dreaded goodbye.

A tickling sensation ran the back of her skull, causing Rose to each up and scratch her scalp with one hand. Honestly, how hard could navigating the TARDIS really be? She’d done it before, but the memories were hazy and filled with a singing she hadn’t ever been able to identify. It sounded so soothing too, as Rose tried to recall what to do with the console. She should just be able to turn this dial slightly, shortly followed by cranking…

It seemed like a surreal dream, Rose’s fingers dancing across the console in a rhythm she had no idea was there in her head. A soft little song found its way past her lips as she moved, wondering how much more there could be to piloting. After all, there really was no pattern to the Doctor’s movements; it seemed more like he was seeing what he could do and what the outcome would be.

Is that what she was doing now?

The tickling sensation was back, only it faded into a warm feeling that spread around her mind, leaving Rose momentarily confused as the dreaminess faded back to the vortex. When she looked up, the Time Rotor had ceased moving, and the lights had dimmed fractionally.

Oh.

Rose looked down at the console, noticing her hands were still lingering on the controls. “Am I in the right time?” Rose asked cautiously. She had never really communicated with the TARDIS, though she had picked up the habit of talking _at_ the TARDIS without thought of her responding.

The lights brightened briefly and the warmth in her mind grew, like her being was wrapped up in a maternal hug. Rose let out a sigh before reaching up and stroking the Time Rotor sweetly. “Thank you,” Rose said, lingering for a moment until the warmth receded. She hiked her pack up higher on her shoulder and headed for the door.

Stopping at the door, Rose turned back to the TARDIS console, noticing how the lights dimmed just a small amount. “I’ll miss you. Take care of him,” she said softly before she turned and walked out the TARDIS blue doors and back to the slow path.

* * *

 

The TARDIS doors shut quietly, the controls moving on their own as the old girl dematerialized into the Vortex once more. Everything Rose touched at the TARDIS’s unconscious bid were put back exactly, the air in the room suddenly cycling to purge the scent of the pink and yellow human from the room. The lights didn’t brighten back up for a few moments as the ship mourned, the future beyond her capability to see.

The TARDIS had asked much of Rose, nearly taking her life in a bid to save the Doctor’s, as Rose willingly would have sacrificed for him. To see the Bad Wolf, the creature who had brought life back to the Doctor, so broken would have broken her own heart, had she the true capability to feel emotions. Doing this, she was giving Rose a chance to run, even if it would hurt the bonded pair to do so.

Rose wanted freedom, and the TARDIS would make sure she was given her freedom. The bio dampener on the human’s thumb was just extra insurance, as the TARDIS began weaving her own brand of security for her wolf.

The Doctor deserved what was coming, and the TARDIS could feel the echo of anger in her wiring that would make sure she fought against him for what he would do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who read my start of a story and enjoyed the first chapter.  
> Special thanks to TheDoctorAteMyShoe, Geek_girl_for_life, Latetowho, KK1986, and Kat for the reviews and all the kudos for your support.   
> Kat- at this time, there is no posting schedule, as my personal life is rather spastic and finding time to type up what I've handwritten is a bit complicated right now. But, I have a huge chunk of the story already written down, so there will be more, just not on any set schedule. I apologize in advance and thank you for your patience.

The corridor leading to the galley seemed much longer than it usually was, which was rather odd, but not unheard of. The TARDIS was often rearranging her rooms to suit her whims, and it seemed to suit her to put the galley three corridors further and two more to the right from where it had been only the day prior.  Normally, this wouldn’t bother the Doctor in the slightest, as he rather enjoyed a lengthy jaunt through his ship to start off his day, but today didn’t feel normal. The TARDIS was in a rather foul mood, and he rather felt like he was being punished for something.

The trouble of the matter was, he couldn’t think of what he could possibly be punished for.

There weren’t any outstanding maintenance overhauls that he had been neglecting to do for her, he had run down the list of things to repair or tinker with while he had showered that morning. The last few landings had hardly been anything to jar important bits loose; he had checked in between school days while Rose had been busy with Jackie. He honestly couldn’t understand why the TARDIS was being as uppity as she was.

Yet, he had to wander about a bit before he was able to find the galley in his own ship. Hardly dignified for a Time Lord, but the Doctor was not about to make an issue with the TARDIS, as he had learned long ago to let his Type 40 have her fit and work it out on her own; it was just easier that way.

_If only the same principle worked on Rose as it did with the TARIDS_ , the Doctor thought gruffly, as he entered the galley.

Without warning, the dark wood door swung back to smack the Time Lord square on the rump, propelling him forward with an ‘oomph’ before he landed in a heap onto the white tiled floor. The Doctor laid there for just a moment, assess the damage done to his pride (as there was none done to him physically), before he rolled over onto propped hands to glare at the galley door. Across the bond the Doctor could feel a hiss of warning, a wordless threat that left the Doctor puzzled.

And this behavior was both puzzling and concerning, at least from the TARDIS. She had never become physical like this before, not even when he had been playing that awful recorder for hours on end. It was most disturbing that she would attack him as she did.

“Oh good, it’s not me she’s mad at,” Mickey said from behind the stainless-steel island counter beside the Doctor. The Doctor jumped up immediately, brushing away any stray dirt that may have clung to his suit from his unplanned trip to the floor. Mickey leaned against the opposite counter, a steaming cup of tea in his hands and a look of guarded emotions in his dark eyes. He sipped carefully as he watched the Doctor warily. “Thought it was me, but I wasn’t hit with the door on the way in.”

“Yes, well, she is old and prone to fits,” the Doctor explained irritably. The door slammed open hard, thundering against the crème colored wall and causing the two to jump back in surprise.

“That don’t seem like a fit, Doctor,” Mickey said cautiously, keeping an eye on the door as he settled back in his spot on the counter. “Seems to be directed at you.”

“Me? Nah,” the Doctor tried to play off, but he watched the door swing back to its resting place. “Just need to get going. Been still too long,” he explained away to an unbelieving Mickey, who just watched him as he drank his morning tea. The Doctor glanced around the stainless-steel galley, noting the lack of a second human. “Where’s Rose?” the Doctor asked surprised. She was usually up by now, drinking her first cup and waiting for the caffeine to hit her system.

“Must still be tired,” Mickey said with a shrug. “She was pretty knackered last night.”

Unease settled in the Doctor’s insides, but he ignored it. Yesterday had been long for all of them. Rose was probably just getting in a little extra sleep, he reasoned, nothing more. There was no reason to fuss just because she wasn’t up early. “’S not like her to sleep this late,” the Doctor murmured, mostly to himself, but Mickey heard him just fine.

“Probably had trouble sleeping without being haunted by murdering droids,” Mickey said bitterly into his drink. “Know I did,” he said softly.

Guilt from the night before came roaring back in full force, causing the knot in the Doctor’s stomachs to grow exponentially. He hadn’t much thought about Rose’s wellbeing from yesterday, as she had escaped far worse things than a few clockwork droids. He had been rather self-absorbed with the guilt from being unable to fulfil his promise to Jeanne.

_But that isn’t the only reason, now is it?_

“I’m going to go check on Rose,” the Doctor tried for casual, but he could hear the small quiver in his voice. Mickey raised an eyebrow at him, before he set down his own mug.

“I’ll come with you,” Mickey said.

“Lead the way Mickey Smith!” the Doctor declared, gesturing for Mickey to walk ahead of him. Mickey stayed exactly where he was, glaring hard at the Doctor.

“Oh no, I wasn’t born yesterday,” Mickey snapped. “Anyone’s getting hit by doors, it’s you.”

“Coward,” the Doctor muttered as he turned to face the door, eyeing it warily for sudden movement.

“Prick,” Mickey whispered back, staying off to the side of the Doctor, just in case the TARDIS decided to throw the Doctor straight back.

She did no such thing, leaving the door free of any influence other than what was applied to it by the Doctor and Mickey. And Mickey found it rather comical, watching the Doctor hesitate before he yanked open the heavy door quickly before dashing through like he was expecting to be hit again. He would openly admit he was a bit disappointed the TARDIS didn’t try again. The Doctor did deserve it, in Mickey’s humble opinion.

They didn’t talk as the Doctor navigated the corridors easily while Mickey trailed behind, wondering how anyone was expected to navigate this maze. Each coral colored corridor looked the same as the last one and Mickey gave up any hope of returning to his tea without assistance after the second left after the staircase…. Or was it a second right? Mickey honestly couldn’t be sure anymore.

The closer they got to Rose’s door, the more distant the TARDIS became from the Doctor. The knots coalesced into a Gordian knot in his stomachs until they reached the door with the circular Gallifreyan reading ‘Rose Marion Tyler’. The Doctor reached out and rapped hard on the door, waiting to hear any sounds of life behind the heavy door.

None were forthcoming though, and the Gordian knot dropped into a black hole inside of him.

“Maybe she’s still sleeping,” Mickey tried to supply when the Doctor reached for the handle. He wasn’t listening though, as his fear took over.

“Rose doesn’t sleep this late,” the Doctor said flatly. The knob gave no resistance, opening quietly to a lifeless room. Stepping inside, the Doctor looked around, trying to make sense of what he was seeing, but his hearts were just breaking, making every breath painful as the pieces tore at his insides. He couldn’t understand.

“You sure we have the right room?” Mickey asked cautiously, not daring to cross the threshold of the room.

The walls were a drab pale crème color, the shades of warm pinks gone like they had never been there, the carpet an equally washed out color rather than the rich red it had been before. The light pink bedspread he had teased her about was gone, only a naked mattress void of any life. It was a sterile room, not even her perfume was left in the air.

Mickey was talking, he was sure of it, but he couldn’t wrap his mind around what exactly Mickey was saying to him. Looking at the wall across from the bed, the Doctor could see pieces of Rose’s collage of memories hanging on the wall. Crossing over to it, the Doctor’s brain noticed the pattern right away. He could recall in great detail what this collage had looked like only a few days ago, when he had sat on her bed, teasing her about her fussing over the school staff uniform she had to wear. He knew exactly what was missing, and he felt like the shards of his hearts were being forced outward from a super nova inside his chest.

Did his hearts still beat, or were they too fractured to work? It hurt too much for him to think.

He walked slowly into the bathroom that joined the bedroom through a single archway, knowing he wouldn’t find his pink and yellow human anywhere in there. Instead, he found black lipstick writing on the mirror, tearing apart his insides.

_Actions speak louder than words. Treat her better._

_Treat her better._

“She’s gone,” Mickey said in awe.

That snapped through the Doctor’s brain, jolting him out of his reverie and into action.  “Can’t be gone,” the Doctor said as he strode out of the room, his steps quick and his stride long. “We’re still in the Vortex. That’s impossible.”

Mickey was forced to jog in the wake of the Doctor’s brutal pace, trying to keep up with the Time Lord to avoid getting lost. “What, you think she’s just hiding somewhere on this ship to avoid you?”

“She can’t have left,” the Doctor said firmly. “The only way she could’ve gotten off was if the TARDIS landed. Or if she had a Vortex Manipulator, which I know she doesn’t. Or a really strong tractor beam like on the Game Station.” Oh, this line of thought was not making the Doctor feel any better at all. “She can’t have left.”

Mickey was starting to huff by the time the console room came into view. Bloody hell, he needed to start going to a gym. “But she piloted the TARDIS on her own before,” he argued. “I saw her do it.”

“You saw the TARDIS using Rose as a channel, a host for all of the Time Vortex, and it nearly killed her,” the Doctor explained. “But I took it all out of her.”

“’s why you changed,” Mickey finished as they entered the console room. “Rose said as much, that you changed to save her.”

“Precisely,” the Doctor said as he surveyed the console, mapping out exactly how he had left it hours ago. No, nothing had been moved as far as he could tell, and they were still in the Vortex judging by the rhythmic movement of the time rotor.

“Then where is she?” Mickey said, stating the obvious.

The Doctor moved to the keyboard and began typing, his mind trying to wrap around the facts that he was currently facing. The TARDIS was still being cold towards him, completely unhelpful, but not fighting him as he did a search of his ship. Rose had to be here, the Doctor thought, there was no other option. The computer readout, on the other hand, disagreed with the Doctor entirely.

“What do you mean ‘not present’?” the Doctor snapped. He started tapping the keys harder, checking and rechecking the search parameters and still coming up with the same answer. Rose Tyler was not onboard the TARDIS. “It’s not possible.”

“Rose is smart,” Mickey supplied, not sure how to take the Doctor’s sudden shift in moods to a darker one. He had seen the Oncoming Storm once, and that was enough for one lifetime. “Could’ve remembered how to get herself home.”

The Doctor glared at Mickey, his warm eyes dark with a storm brewing in their depths. “She can’t have remembered, _Mickey,_ ” the Doctor’s voice dripped with venom. “I stole Bad Wolf’s memories when I took the Time Vortex out of her, otherwise she ran the risk of burning up from the inside if the…”

A thought crossed the Doctor’s mind, one that left him shaking in fear and rage. “No,” the Doctor said calmly as he stepped back from the console, disgust clearly written across his face. “No. You wouldn’t have. No!” The Doctor shouted at the TARDIS, feeling the slight twinge of guilt coming across their bond. A confession.

“What?” Mickey asked, stepping away from the console to stand near one of the coral struts, preparing to flee if necessary. Rose had never warned Mickey that the Doctor could be this way, seething with a violence so much darker than anything he had ever come across. Did she even know?

The Doctor turned to Mickey, and he shrank back in fear of The Oncoming Storm staring back at him. There was fire and madness staring out from those dark brown eyes, the kind that held no equal in all of creation. “Don’t you see, Mickey Smith?” the Doctor sneered at Mickey, as if he were completely stupid for not reaching the same conclusion as himself. “I burned for her, to keep her safe, drawing out all of the Time Vortex so she would live. And the _TARDIS_ ,” he said the word with such venom Mickey shuddered, “found a trace of it in Rose.”

The Oncoming Storm turned away from Mickey to stalk around the console, rage pouring off of the doctor in waves. “You ran the risk of igniting her!” he screamed. “You would sacrifice her again for what?!” The TARDIS’s lights dimmed a fraction, enough that Mickey looked around and realized how mad this entire episode was. He had just seen the TARDIS swing a kitchen door to hit her pilot, who was now raving like a madman at his ship. What was stopping her from flinging open the doors and letting them be sucked out into the Vortex?

“Uh, Doctor?” Mickey’s voice was timid as he tried to get the Doctor’s attention. “I wouldn’t…” Mickey didn’t get to finish, because the Doctor rounded on him, seeing him holding onto the strut for dear life.

“She may have killed Rose,” the Doctor spat. “We have to find her.”

The Doctor moved to the console, and that was when the real fight began. Mickey only saw the Doctor moving around in his erratic behavior, his movements hard and jerky, but the reality was so much worse. The TARDIS was fighting with the Doctor, both by walling him out of their bond and by making it harder for him to pilot her with great accuracy. Mickey only saw what was outside, but across the bond, it was like two colossal titans battling it out for control. The TARDIS gave everything she had, fighting the Doctor for every millimeter that he moved her controls, but she was only semi-sentient. He was a force honed in the fires of the Time War, and he rallied against her with everything he had. She was no match for him.

The engines wheezed and shuddered powerfully, jarring the ship and its occupants about like they were nothing. Mickey hit the ground hard enough to bruise, his grip on the strut having slipped, and he prayed it would be over soon. The Doctor held his ground, bracing himself against the protests of his ship. He would make her land, and she would obey him in this. Rose’s life could be at stake; he would not fail her.

The TARDIS slammed into the ground of the Powell Estate, causing her passengers to be lifted off of the ground momentarily from the force of the stop. Momentarily dazed by the entire thing, Mickey laid still while his mind tried to catch up with his surroundings. The Doctor, on the other hand, was striding towards the doors, uncaring about the human lying on the grating. The TARDIS whimpered, her soft pleas of pain ignored by the Doctor as he stepped outside. Right now, she could suffer for all he cared. He had to find Rose.

Running from the TARDIS to Jackie’s flat door took hardly any time at all, which was a good thing in the Doctor’s book. There was no telling what state Rose would be in, and he feared the worst when he pounded on the flat door. Resentment still rolled inside of him, but fear was pressing in. If the TARDIS had touched even the smallest fragment of Time Vortex left inside of Rose, there was no way to calculate how quickly, or slowly, she would burn up from inside. And she very well could burn up. Any spark to ignite any remaining Time Vortex and there would only be a husk of human left.

A very irritated looking Jackie answered the door, and the Doctor had never been so glad to see her in all of his life. “Jackie! So glad to see you!”

The Doctor didn’t get to finish what he was going to say to the older Tyler, as he had missed the look of motherly fury in her eyes a split second before she moved. Her fist collided with the Doctor’s nose, and he staggered from the force of the blow, pain blossoming from his most certainly broken nose. The only thing that saved him from falling down to the ground was the railing he was hunched against as his hands tried hard to staunch the blood flowing out of his nose.

“You bloody sod!” Jackie screeched, uncaring of her neighbours hearing the ruckus that she was making. She was shaking out her fist to dispel the sting from the punch as she raved. “You damn stupid alien!”

“You broke my nose!” The Doctor stated nasally. She had punched him! How had such a smaller ape have such force behind that swing? He was most certain her pale blue tracksuit wasn’t hiding any newly acquired muscle tone, but bloody hell, it hurt worse than the slap!

“Be glad that’s all I’m breaking,” Jackie snapped. “Got some nerve coming here, banging on my door like you’re even welcome back here after what you’ve done.”

The Doctor just stared at her like she had two heads. What was she going on about? “What?”

“After everything you’ve done, and you think it’s okay to just come back and not expect to get hit?”

“What?”

“I outta take a page outta that invading alien race and cut something off of you, and it sure as hell won’t be your hand!”

“WHAT?”

At that moment, Mickey rounded the corner for Jackie’s floor, looking winded and bleeding from a cut on his forehead. Jackie turned on him, wagging her finger at him threateningly. “And you, Mickey Smith! Keeping him company for the last three months! What would your gran say about that? Skin you alive, that’s what she’d have done!”

“What are you talking about?” Mickey tried for defensively, but he was puffing too hard to pull off the desired effect. He had to brace himself on the wall as he tried to catch his breath, not daring to put his hands on his knees lest Jackie decide he needed to be kicked. And with the right state she was in, Mickey was quite certain she would ensure he sung soprano for days afterwards.

“The two of you! Gone three months together while Rose has been here, dealing with whatever it was that YOU,” she rounded on the Doctor again, and he had the good sense to leap back out of striking range of her, “did to her. Never seen her in such a state, not even after that wanker, Jimmy Stone.”

“Rose is here?” The Doctor dropped his bloody hands and, forgetting Jackie’s outburst momentarily, tried to move past her to find Rose.

Jackie balled up her fists and made a motion to go at the Doctor again. “Oh no you don’t! You stay back or I’ll show you what happens when you mess with a Tyler woman!” The Doctor dodged back, ducking behind Mickey’s larger frame to keep Jackie from breaking something else on him. And he had thought being slapped by that woman was bad enough!

Mickey realized the dangerous position the Doctor had just placed him in. He threw up his hands, trying to garner some peace before he ended up with a black eye. “Calm down Jackie.”

“DON’T YOU TELL ME TO CALM DOWN MICKEY SMITH!” Jackie screeched for everyone to hear, and there were a number of heads poking out of doors by this time. “I WILL TURN YOU OVER MY KNEE, SO HELP ME!”

Mickey winced, but he didn’t step back from the sight of Jackie’s vengeance. “Jackie, it’s been two days for me, and Rose might very well be in trouble.” Mickey’s voice was calm in the face of terror, and the Doctor felt he owed Mickey a small amount of credit. Jackie terrified him, and he had faced much worse out in the universe.

Jackie snorted as she dropped her clenched fists. “Well she ain’t in any trouble now, no thanks to either of you.”

“Well, that may not very well be true,” the Doctor pipped in. Jackie’s glare intensified on the Doctor, and the Doctor had the good sense to shut his gob up at that exact moment.

“She’s just fine,” Jackie bit out, her conviction bleeding into her words.

“Jackie,” Mickey tried again, “Rose might be sick, and she may not realize it yet.” Mickey could see the worry start to take hold in Jackie’s eyes, but she stayed in a defensive position none the less. “Is she here? Can we just talk to her?”

“No, she’s not here, and I’m not telling you where she went either!” Jackie retorted as she stepped inside her own flat.

“Jackie,” the Doctor braved out from behind Mickey, trying to seem as non-threatening as he possibly could. “You know I wouldn’t hurt Rose, just please, I need to make sure she’s alright.”

There was a dark fury about Jackie’s eyes, the kind that resembled a tropical storm rolling in fast. “Wouldn’t hurt her, huh? Then maybe you can figure out why she cried herself to sleep every night she was here, and why it was always your name she sobbed after she woke up. Maybe you can explain why she flinches every time the word ‘French’ comes up, or why she couldn’t land a job working for any of those government agencies that she told me about. Maybe you can understand, because I sure as hell can’t!” Jackie slammed the door in their faces, rather enjoying the sudden release of anger that had built up over the past three months.

The Doctor flinched when the door slammed, but otherwise he just stared at it, trying to digest what it was that Jackie had been trying to tell him. Rose was hurt, truly hurt enough that there was no option of staying with him. She couldn’t even stay with her own mother, or talk about what had happened. None of this made any sense.

“I don’t understand,” the Doctor’s voice was hollow as he stared after Jackie.

Mickey huffed. “Course you wouldn’t.”

The Doctor ignored Mickey’s statement as he walked back to the TARDIS, ignoring the stares and looks of shock on the faces of bystanders and eavesdroppers. He adjusted his nose as he walked, pulling out a handkerchief from his jacket pocket to clear his passageways of blood once he was certain it was lined back up correctly.

Mickey didn’t follow him, rather waited outside Jackie’s door until she peeked through the curtains to see if they had gone. Glaring at him, she snapped the curtains shut, ignoring his presence completely. It was fine though, he apparently now had time. He could wait all day for her to decide to talk to him.

The Doctor slammed the TARDIS door shut, leaning back against it as a migraine began forming behind his right eye. What had he gotten himself into?

The TARDIS snickered darkly across their bond, a nasty way of saying ‘you deserved that’ if he had ever heard one. He growled low back at her, a spitting image of a wounded beast. “Some help you are,” he growled aloud at her. “Can’t even land when you’re supposed to.” There was more snickering across the bond, something far uglier than the Doctor cared to reflect on. It didn’t matter though, there were other ways to find Rose Tyler.

As the Doctor approached the console, warning bells went off in his head, scattering his thoughts and dropping him to his knees. His eyes watered in both pain and frustration, and he lashed out blindly. “Why can’t you make this easy?!” he shouted as his fists slammed onto the grating. He ignored the pain in his hands as the bells stopped just as suddenly as they started. “What did I do to deserve this?”

Tears that had nothing to do with any physical pain trekked down his cheeks, smearing the blood still caked around his nose and leaving dark red smears on the grating. He sat back on his bum, his back against the console as his blood covered hands burrowed into his hair and pulled at it, trying to distract him from the ache in his chest.

Rassilon, what hadn’t he done to deserve this?

The Doctor knew where he went wrong, he knew the precise moment his life went awry, and he could point it out to one word, ‘run’. The moment he took her hand, his world started turning upside down, and he was helpless to stop it. She gave him hope. Her sweetness and light kept away the darkness in him, and he craved to be worthy of that light. He had chosen her over countless of lives, protected her from her own naïve mistakes, even sacrificed himself, twice, to save her life.

Hadn’t he proven enough for her?

The TARDIS laughed in his mind, something cold and bitter. _When had she become so good at mimicking emotions_ , the Doctor wondered. She drew up the picture of Rose’s bathroom mirror, of the black letters written in lipstick on the mirror for him to read. _Actions speak louder than words. Treat her better._

_Nearly dying twice isn’t enough?_ The Doctor shot sarcastically.

Words flashed across his mind, the writing on the mirror replaced by those of the TARDIS’s creation.

_Regeneration._

_Lies._

_Deceit._

_Sarah Jane._

_Madame Jeanne_

_Sin of Omission._

The Doctor flinched, trying to shove the TARDIS out of his mind. “I did what I had to!” he shouted back, his eyes still clamped shut as the tears streamed onto his pinstriped suit.

_Did you really?_ The black letters carved into his mind and tore at him. He felt the TARDIS digging around in his brain, drawing up the memory of mentally touching Jeanne, of the rush he felt to be able to make contact with another person who was at least in some small part telepathic. It was wrong, and it was dirty, but he had craved that intimacy so badly that he didn’t want to go without it again.

And that was the dirty little secret, wasn’t it? He felt nothing for Jeanne, not when she kissed him, and not when he had been forced to take the slow path to get back to Rose and Mickey. It was purely the craving of another’s mind, even if they held no interest to him. He had been so rattled by that little revelation that he had done everything he could to obtain it, not even caring what the cost would be. He had laminated the loss of mental contact, not the woman whom he had been willing to use up until there was nothing left but the same darkness inside her that there was in him.

Sarah Jane, she knew him from the past. She knew what he had been like before the war, how much less of a monster he had been. He had so wanted to show that the Time War hadn’t affected him at all, to hide himself in the ideals of the past, lest she realize what he had become. And he so desperately wanted to be that man, not this harbinger of death that he was now. He had been so busy trying to make a lie truth that he hadn’t bothered to think about Rose.

Here was this brilliant human, this beautiful creature of pink and yellow, that had seen only a tip of what he had been through, of the horrors that haunted his dreams and gnawed at his thoughts constantly, and she chose to promise him forever rather than run away screaming. She showed mercy to a Dalek, twisted time, and bonded with his own TARDIS to see him safe.

And he had treated her like shite. He had broken her down so badly that she felt there was no other alternative but to run away from him, crying herself to sleep over him, and his magnificent ship had seen fit to risk Rose’s physical health to save her mental state.

The Doctor stood up, reaching for the console controls as he wiped away the blood and tears onto his suit sleeve. He had to find her and make this alright, at least check to make sure she wasn’t burning up inside. She could scream at him, shout and throw things at him, even punch him if it made her feel better (though he rather hoped she wouldn’t resort to assaulting him like Jackie had), but he had to know she was alright.

He owed her some sort of explanation, even if it wasn’t a valid one for the way he had treated her. He would tell her everything, if she would listen. She didn’t have to continue traveling with him. He just wanted her to know how fantastic she was.

The TARDIS controls put up no resistance this time as he started his search of Earth for Rose Tyler’s DNA signature. He had used her DNA before as a homing device, back when he had flown the TARDIS into the heart of the Dalek fleet. He knew it could find her if she were anywhere on Earth.

_No Match Found._

The Doctor just stared at the screen, making sure he did in fact read the circular writing correct. _No Match Found._ No, that couldn’t be right, he argued. He ran it again.

_No Match Found._ Again.

_No Match Found._ He widened the parameters to encompass the Milky Way.

_No Match Found._ He widened it again to encompass the nearest ten galaxies.

_No Match Found._

The Doctor just stared at the results, his chest going numb and his sins beginning to weigh his shoulders down. “You’ve protected her from me, haven’t you?” the Doctor said flatly, his words hollow with resignation. The TARDIS gave the equivalent of a small nod across their bond, as if she were unsure how her pilot would react to that.

Of all of the reactions the TARDIS had expected, silent resignation to his fate had not been one she expected. He just stood staring at the screen for a time, rereading the words as his brain simply shut down. His hand came up to settle on his chest, unsure if it was really feeling the double beat of his hearts or if it was an echo that he felt. It hurt far too much to be his hearts he was feeling; they couldn’t possibly be working with how badly his chest hurt. Not even when he had thought she was dead had they hurt this badly.

“Let me know if it changes, please?” The Doctor asked before turning away from the screen, his plimsolls dragging on the grating as he moved deeper into his ship. He paid no mind to the TARDIS’s hesitant affirmation in his mind, just started the long trudge back to his room.

_How long does it take a Time Lord to rebound from broken hearts?_ He wondered silently.


End file.
